


Her First Crush

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Secret Crush, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hermione had a crush on an older Weasley brother. She didn't even know when it started.Warning ahead: THERE'S NO SEX before she was an adult. But they KISSED when she was under seventeen.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Percy Weasley
Kudos: 45





	Her First Crush

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ WARNING BEFORE PROCEED: 
> 
> They didn't have sex until she was an adult, that is why I didn't choose "under age". 
> 
> But she had a crush on him since she was 12, and kissed him when she was 13. 
> 
> This is smut/sex fantasy. It doesn't represent anything I believe in real relationships. 
> 
> I write for fun and I own nothing.

**YEAR 2**

Hermione Granger had a secret. She had never told anybody that her first crush was Percy Weasley.

She didn’t even remember when it started. Perhaps it was the time she walked passed an empty classroom near the Astronomy Tower on a warm summer evening when she heard some strange panting from the door which was left ajar. At first she thought it might be Peeves, trying to screw the lamps from the wall; but as she approached closer and peeked inside, she realized it was two older students. Possibly sixth years.

The girl was sitting on top of a desk, her robes peeled down from her shoulder, and her shirt open in the front, revealing a scarlet bra. Her snowy, full breasts heaved as she panted under the pressure of a tall, lean boy in glasses. He towered over her confidently, pinned both of her hands on the table; he was impeccably dressed in black robes, shirt, gold and red tie. A Prefect’s badge glittered on his left chest.

“Why are you out alone without the company of a teacher or a Prefect? Surely you know the rules?” Demanded the boy, and Hermione clapped her mouth in shock. It was Percy Weasley.

“Please,” said the girl in a feeble voice that sounded like a whimper and a please, “I only wanted to catch up some work in the library and didn’t want to trouble anyone -”

“Oh Penny, you could’ve asked me,” said Percy in a cold, mocking tone. “Do you want detention?”

“No…”

“Why don’t you loosen another button for me?”

The girl bit her lips to stop a smile. Hermione was genuinely confused. She looked excited rather than scared.

A voice inside of her brain told her that she should leave this instant. But her feet were pinned to the floor. Suddenly she remembered what Ginny said to her a few weeks back. She said that she walked in on Percy doing something she should not see. When Hermione asked her what was it, she only blushed and scarpered away.

Hermione’s eyes widened in terror when Percy slid a hand under the girls school skirt. The girl let out a soft moan and threw back her head. She lifted her legs and wrapped around Percy’s hips.

Hermione dropped a book accidentally, and Percy immediately looked back, “who is it?”

Without second thoughts, she turned back and ran as fast as she could. She didn’t stop until she was safely inside of the Gryffindor tower and back in her bed. She let the curtains down, then she threw herself into the pillows, and waited until her breaths slow down.

Percy Weasley was a pervert, she trembled at this horrid discovery. She couldn't think of another explanation; she couldn’t’ possibly understand what she just saw. Percy was using his power a prefect to do something to a poor girl…

But what exactly was he doing?

Hermione had a vague idea of snogging and had some giggling about it when she talked about it with the girls in her dorm. She had some blurry, vague sex fantasies about Gilderoy Lockhart, but what she just saw was definitely not her imagination of a romantic scene. Wasn’t it supposed to be gentle, and sweet? What Percy doing was threatening, domineering, and…

Hermione rolled over and faced the canopy on top of her bed. Her face was still burning, and she felt something strange - a warm, throbbing feeling between her legs…

She was quite at lost.

Slowly, hesitatingly, she grabbed the quilt besides her bodies and clenched her legs. A little shock of pleasure shot through her body and it felt good. She bit her lips to stop a soft whimper rolling out of her throat, and she clenched her legs again.

She closed her eyes and saw Percy’s face above her.

_“Why don’t you loosen another button for me?”_

She shivered in excitement and her skin was on fire. She had never thought about him in an attractive way. Not like that. He was Ron’s older brother, and always seemed quite stiff and asexual to her. And she really, really shouldn’t…

She imagined his voice in her ears again and pulled her skirts up to her waistband. She squeezed her leges tightly together and arched her body in orgasm.

She collapsed into the bed in exhaustion. The throbbing pain was still there, sore and acute, as if she was yearning for more. 

**YEAR 3**

Hermione rapped on Ron’s room in the Leaky Caldron impatiently.

“Ron!” She said, “Ginny wants to know if you took her quill. The one with purple feathers and-”

The door jerked open and she gasped at the sight of Percy. He was in a casual dark blue shirt and gray trousers. The sudden presence of him in close quarters made it hard for her to breathe freely. He was taller and broader than she remembered.

“Sorry, er,” she stuttered, flustering and blushing. “I didn’t know you’re here.”

“Ron’s with Fred and George,” he said, “but you can come in to have a look. Ron hasn’t packed yet. He dumped all of his stuff on my bed.”

He stepped aside and let her in. He was seventeen and Head Boy this year. Hermione wondered if he only saw her as a little sister. And of course, he was right to see her this way.

Percy and her had a lot of things in common. Sometimes she wondered if he had even noticed. For instance, both of them were uptight and bothered about breaking rules – well, less for Hermione in the latter regard. He was reserved, stiff, and boring. But Hermione knew that there were more layers hidden in him that she wanted to explore.

And…Hermione sighed inwardly, who’d have thought Percy Weasley preferred to be domineering in sex? He certainly didn’t look the type.

She looked for Ginny’s quill on Percy’s bed, which was scattered with Ron’s clothes. Percy sat by a desk on a hard chair, reading a book. The Head Boy badge shining on the desk behinds his ink bottle.

Hermione shot him stealthy glances a couple of times, thinking how delicious his straight, lean side profile looked like.

“Arithmancy?” Hermione meandered through the room with Ron’s shoes and books on the floor everywhere, and came besides Percy. She already found what she was looking for, and realized that Percy was reading on the subject she was going to take this year.

Percy looked up. “Oh yes,” he said with a light smile. “Are you taking it this year?”

“I am,” beamed Hermione. She leaned at his desk and glanced at his book. He closed the book and held it for her to see; their knuckles brushed against each other’s and Hermione blushed fervently.

“I heard it’s quite difficult,” she said.

“Well, feel free to ask me about your homework,” said Percy nicely, completely unaware of what his touch just did to Hermione.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, and then escaped his room.

She was quite overwhelmed by all the classes she took that year, even after she dropped Divination.

She found that Arithmancy was quite a good excuse for her to spend some time with Percy alone in a cozy corner in the common room. Harry and Ron wouldn’t bother them, because the subject Hermione and Percy talked about usually bore them to death.

On a cold October Saturday afternoon, Hermione comfortably settled next to him on one sofa. When he was looking down at her essay, he did not notice at all that his arm was touching hers. Through the thin cotton fabric of his white shirt, she could feel the temperature of his skin, and he was warm. So very warm.

She moisturized her lips.

Her plaid skirt was pulled slightly up her thighs and as she leaned in to listen to him explain the equations, her leg brushed against his.

He moved aside immediately out of instinct.

“There,” he tapped his wand on her essay one last time, “fix this and you should be all good.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione. “Will you have time next weekend? I may have some more questions.”

“I’m not certain, I might go to Hogsmead,” he said, his ears went red a little. “Ah, Penelope!”

He leapt to his feet when a group of seventh year girls climbed into the hole behind the Fat Lady. One of them smiled at Percy brightly as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek with.

Hermione recognized that girl. She was with Percy that night in the classroom under the Astronomy Tower.

She quickly gathered her things and retreated into her dorm.

She felt angry about herself. What was she thinking? Apparently she was too young for him. And it was wrong. She shouldn’t have feelings for an older boy.

He didn’t even see her as a girl, not in that way.

What frustrated Hermione furthermore was that her crush didn’t fade with time. Instead it grew stronger every time they had a tutor session.

The first time they had an intimate moment was the weekend after the flight of the Fat Lady. She returned to her dorm late, and bumped headlong into Percy at the corner of a corridor.

“What’re you doing outside of Gryffindor tower?” He scowled down at her. He was in his robes, the Head Boy’s badge sparkled on his chest.

“Well,” said she, “what’re _you_ doing outside?”

“Rounds,” he said irritably. “Come now, I’ll walk you back.”

A familiar footsteps came from under the stairs, and came a croaking, hissing voice. It was Filch. “Who’s there?” He barked, “is there a student out of bed?”

“Damn it,” breathed Percy. And then to Hermione’s surprise, he grabbed both her arms and dragged her into a broom cupboard behind a tapestry. His head hit the ceiling and he cursed again; the cupboard was clearly too small for them, and her back was pushed against the hard, stone wall and her nose was half an inch away from his chest.

She felt his hard, lean body against hers.

“Per-”

“Shhh,” he whispered into her ear and lifted a hand to put on her lips. Her honey-brown eyes widened at the sudden touch of his warm, large hands on her skin. His scent was all over her, and it was too much…

His legs were between hers, and the hems of her school skirt was lifted up, grazed against her thighs and pressed into the fabric of his black trousers.

Had he not bene too preoccupied in listening to Filch’s footsteps, he’d have noticed how intimate their position was. But he didn’t notice at all. For him, Hermione was just a little sister he needed to watch out for. And he didn’t want her to get into any trouble with Filch.

“I think he’s gone,” said Percy, and put down his hand. “I think we can head out –”

Hermione grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to her; she closed her eyes, and pressed a soft, damp kiss on his lips.

Percy froze in shock. It took him five seconds to react, and he pushed Hermione back with a bit of too much force and made her head bang against the walls. And then he ducked out of the broom cupboard abruptly.

Hermione followed him. “Look, Percy, I-“ She began.

“Let’s go,” he said coldly; he adjusted his tie and checked his watch.

They didn’t say a word on their way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Sir Cadogan brandished a sword at them and yelled, “say the word, cowards!”

Percy muttered the password, and they climbed into the hole The common room was empty with a little fire crackling in the fire place.

“We’ll not speak of what happened today again,” he said stiffly. “Good night.”

He quickly disappeared up the stairs to the boy’s dorms.

**YEAR 4**

Percy only greeted her politely the first day she arrived at the Burrow, and barely said anything to her later.

Hermione couldn’t find a moment with him at all. He wasn’t home most of the time. “Workaholic” was his middle name now, and everybody in the Weasley family made fun of him for it. And when he was home, he spent most of his time writing letters or working on his reports in his room.

She felt it extremely annoying. At least they could have a civil conversation about what happened, and continue to be friends. But he was dodging her as much as he could.

She learned to ignore him as well.

On the evening after the riots on the Quidditch final, they sat together, talking and drinking hot chocolate.

“…how would that have overlooked, if she’d been had up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control-“

“She didn't do anything – she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!” Hermione snapped at him. Percy stopped talking, looking quite taken aback. Others were surprised as well – because Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy, give or take – better indeed, than any of the others.

When they returned to Burrow, Mrs. Weasley hugged every one of them with tears. After breakfast, Percy and Mrs. Weasley headed to work and didn’t return until midnight.

Hermione came down to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water; she jumped when she realized someone was sitting by the table in the darkness.

“Hi,” said Percy in a hoarse, tired voice. “Sorry to startle you. I didn’t want to wake the others.”

Hermione paused a heartbeat, and then reached for the water jug in silence.

“Are you all right?” He asked.

Hermione put down the water jug with a thud and turned back. “I’m fine,” she said finally, and then walked out of the kitchen.

“Wait,” Percy got back on his feet and caught up with her. He stretched out a hand as if he wanted to grab her arm, but he stopped himself before he even touched her.

Hermione looked up at him with a frown.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He said, “I don’t want us to be enemies.”

“We’re not enemies, and we aren’t friends either,” said Hermione. “You’re just Ron’s brother, nothing more.”

“Ok,” he swallowed, and said. “Good. There might be some…confusion after that…”

“I was confused when I kissed you,” said Hermione quickly. “I’m sorry that I embarrassed you.”

Without giving him time to reply, she swept past him and ran upstairs.

**YEAR 5**

Neither Ron nor Harry knew that Hermione paid Percy a visit that summer in his flat.

When she climbed out of his fireplace, he was sitting on a dark sofa with a brooding look on his face. His hair was longer. He was dressed in fine, black robes. A tie made of silver silk shimmered slightly in the firelight.

He looked at her and nodded. His eyes were slightly bloodshot. There was three bottles of firewhiskey under his feet.

“I just want to ask you myself,” said Hermione, crossing her arms in front of her. She took a few steps forward and looked down at him. “Do you really choose the Ministry before your family?”

“Fuck my family,” said Percy darkly.

“You can’t possibly mean that –”

He sudden got up and she gasped sharply. He towered over her, and growled, “they never loved and appreciated me. Every time I achieved something, all I had was mock and pranks-”

“You know that’s entirely bogshit,” said Hermione. She felt his breathes on her face and she didn’t flinch, “your mother was so proud of you when you became a Prefect, and then Head Boy.”

“But she couldn’t stand me getting a bloody promotion,” he snarled. He sounded wounded.

“You know that they just wanted to use you to get information from you Dad-”

“THAT – IS – NOT – TRUE!” He yelled, “how come you and everyone else in my family see right and wrong so clearly as if there’s no gray areas? To follow Dumbledore I simply have to give up the one good chance in my entire fucking career to prove myself to my family. They already believe that my job is a joke –”

“Your job isn’t a joke,” said Hermione. “It's not.”

“Tell my brothers that,” said Percy spitefully.

He turned around and picked up another bottle of firewhiskey. “You better head back,” he said, and took a deep gulp from the bottle. “They’ll wonder where did you go.”

“It’s fine,” said Hermione quickly. “They thought I’m just taking a stroll in the muggles’ shopping mall.”

“Just go” said Percy. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not here to pity you,” said Hermione angrily. “I’m here to talk some sense into your thick head as a friend –”

Percy let out a loud, scornful laugh. “I thought you made it clear you and I weren’t friends a while ago,” he said.

“Well…” Hermione faltered, “that was…”

He put the bottle down. He took off his robes and tossed it on a sofa. He was in a silver waistcoat and white shirts now. As he sauntered towards her slowly, Hermione stumbled back until her legs hit the wall. She didn’t realize how handsome Percy had become. He was more mature than he used to be when he was still in Hogwarts. And his eyes were sharp, cold, predatory.

“That was what?” He said. He was getting closer.

“Never mind,” she said. “You’re drunk.”

He stopped in front of her, and slowly he lift a hand and rested it on the wall behind her left ear.

“Why are you here?” He asked. “Why do you want to talk to me when the rest of my family don’t want to bother?”

“They’re just too angry,” said Hermione. “You can’t –”

She stopped talking when his head dipped and his lips ghosted across her ear.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“No I’m not,” she gulped. “I think you’re really drunk, Percy.”

“Say my name again.”

She bit her lips, and he chuckled.

“Do you want me to touch you, Hermione?” He said, a bit provokingly.

She froze in his sudden brazenness. It must be the alcohol. She didn’t speak.

“Do you have fantasies about me?” He continued, “what did I do to you in your clever little head?”

“You…” she finally opened her mouth and said, her voice was trembling uncontrollably, “you pinned me down on a school desk, and made me unbutton my shirt for you so you wouldn’t give me detention.”

He let out a deep, feral growl.

“You are making it very hard for me to not touch you,” he whispered.

“Then touch me,” she said. “I want you to.”

“No,” he said. “I might be the disappointment of my family and a total loser, but I’ve got some decency left. Now go.”

She reached out two hands and cupped his cheek. He froze. He didn't even move when Hermione leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Come home,” she whispered. “There’s a war on the way and you can’t stay in the grey zone. You’ve got to choose a side.”

Very slowly he shoved a hand up into her curls, his thumb brushed against her soft cheeks, and then he pushed her back into the wall and deepened the kiss. Hermione’s hand dropped and started to fumble on the buckle of his belt.

He backed off abruptly.

“No,” he said quickly. “I can’t.”

“Percy-”

“Just go,” he said. “Leave. Forget what happened today.”

Hermione turned away angrily and stepped into the fire.

**END OF YEAR 7**

It was a month after Fred’s funeral.

Hermione stayed with the Weasley’s in the Burrow for a while; they needed time to heal, and it was the time that friends and family should stay together.

They hadn’t seen Percy since the funeral. Even he fought with them in the final battle, it was still awkward between him and his family. Molly sent him a few owls, asking him to come home for dinner, but he always refused with excuses that he was busy at work.

“I wish I could let him know that I’ve forgiven him,” said Molly one evening when they were all sitting in the living room.

“I haven’t,” said Arthur, flipping a page on the newspaper he was reading. “Not completely.”

“I don’t even know where he lives,” sighed Molly.

“In his office?” Said Ron thickly. “I bet he sleeps there.”

Hermione had a short-lived relationship with Ron, but since Ron left them during their search for the horcruxes, things between them were not the same again. They were still friends, but not lovers anymore. It was not like she couldn’t forgive him. It just felt like it wouldn’t work anymore.

“Perhaps I could go talk to him,” suggested Hermione. “I could go to the Ministry and …”

“Oh yes, if you could it’d be great,” said Molly. “I really want him here for Harry’s birthday.”

Hermione didn’t tell the entire truth. Instead of going to the Ministry, she waited for him in his flat.

Witches and wizards usually set restrictions to their home fireplaces; only the people allowed could floo directly into their homes. Hermione was glad when she found herself in his living room instead of being sent back to the Burrow. He didn’t remove her.

She waited on the sofa, but he didn’t return home until very late. She fell asleep. She woke up with a rumbling in her belly when she smelled the inviting aroma of food in the air.

She rose up in the sofa, and realized that Percy was bustling around in the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you can cook,” she said.

“And I didn’t know you can just barge into my place without knocking,” he replied.

He already changed out of his work clothes. He was only in a hoodie and jeans, and such clothes made him look younger, and…different.

“You could’ve removed my access to your fireplace,” she shrugged, and walked into the kitchen. “You need some help?”

“You can set the table,” he said with a hint of smile. “You like lamb stew, I hope?”

“Sure,” she said. “Where’re the plates?”

“Second cupboard above your head,” he said, and then lifted the lid of the pot to taste the stew with a ladle. Hermione opened the cupboard above her head and took out two plates.

“Get some glasses as well,” he said. “I have butter beer.”

“Oh perfect,” she said. But the glasses were on the shelf on top of the plates. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach them.

“Let me,” he came behind her, stretched out a hand and easily took two glasses from the top shelf. She turned back to face him, and bumped into his chest right away.

They both froze.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione immediately. “I’ll get the forks –”

She gasped when Percy lifted her up on the counter and kissed her.

The first kiss was tentative, merely a brush against the lips. And then he stopped, looked at her, as if waiting for her to say something.

“D'you know that you’re my first crush?” She whispered. A smile curled the corners of her pink lips. She couldn't move her eyes away from him.

“I know,” he chuckled. “I figured as much when you kept asking me to tutor you. You tried to touch me, pretending it was innocent and unintentional.”

“Was it that obvious?” She lift her eyebrows.

“Oh believe me, it was _that_ obvious,” he said. “But honestly, I only saw you as a little sister back then. I thought it was just a silly crush and it would wear off with time. But Merlin’s pants, aren’t you a stubborn one?”

Hermione met his intense gaze and blushed. She grasped the fabric on his sleeves and shivered. Oh God, she couldn’t believe this was finally happening. Was she in a dream?

“And when did you…” she said timidly. “You know, begin to see me in a different light?”

“When you came to my flat the first time,” he said. “You were fifteen –”

“Almost sixteen,” she muttered.

He chuckled, “and it was wrong to think you in that way. I know.”

“You didn’t do anything to me,” she said. Her fingers trailed across his chest and came up to his throat, his jaw, and his cheek.

“Did you and Ron…um,” he lifted one hand and caught hers. “I thought we might as well talk about it first before we…just in case things might get weird between me and my little brother.”

“We never had sex,” she said frankly. “I never had sex with anyone.”

“Never?” He looked surprised.

She frowned in annoyance, “it’s not because I didn’t have any…you know, attractions. I case you haven’t noticed, I was a bit preoccupied in the past two years by the most evil bastard in wizarding histo-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because his hot, damp lips caught hers. His tongue invaded in between her teeth and she let out a soft, eager moan.

She wasn’t sure when he removed her jacket. She was wearing a blue shirt dress with buttons that day. His hand slipped under her dress and slowly moved up to her thigh.

She gasped sharply when his fingers brushed against the damp, sticky cotton of her knickers. He pulled down her knickers and tossed it on the floor. Her toes wriggled inside of her shoes, and she lifted her legs to wrap around his hips.

She let out a small squeal when his finger stroked her sensitive, throbbing clit. He shoved a finger into her, and watched her face with an intense, heated gaze.

“Beautiful,” he muttered. “Unbutton yourself for me. Now.”

She whimpered under his voice, and then obeyed. His eyes darkened at the sight of her black lace bra.

“Damn,” he said. “You’re killing me.”

“Just do it already,” she urged him.

“Hmm, eager,” he smiled predatorily. “What do you want me to do? Say it.”

“Fuck me, Percy,” she panted, “I want you to fuck me.”

He let down his trousers and his erected, hard cock sprang out. He brushed the tip against her soaking entrance first, and said, “this is going to hurt a little.”

He pulled off the hoodie he was wearing, and Hermione held on to his bare shoulder and screamed when he entered her. He was darker and more masculine than she had imagined. The defined lines of muscles on his shoulders and arms were so hot to touch, and Hermione dipped her fingernails into him when he began moving inside of her.

Pain drove her nearly to the verge of tears, but he was gentle; gradually the pain went away, and a very deep, bursting sensation swept over her. He ripped her clothes off her chest and bit her nipples. She let out a cry of joy.

“Oh Percy,” she panted, “go faster…fuck me…”

He moved faster and faster, his face became feral and frantic.

A massive wave of pleasure exploded inside of her and devoured all her senses. She closed her eyes and saw fireworks inside the vast, dark realm of euphoria. The impact of her first orgasm wasn’t just physical joy; it was something much deeper, and intimate. When she held on to him as he yelled and collapsed, tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt a true connection between them now –

“You’re mine,” he said possessively. “And mine only.”

She held him tightly and buried her face in his chest.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her in astonishment. There was something trembling and glittering behind his eyes.

"What have I possibly done to deserve you?" He muttered dreamily. 

“Well, now,” she cleared her throat, “you’re going to go back to the Burrow with me tomorrow. You know you can’t dodge your parents forever.”

“Oh bugger,” he rolled his eyes.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
